Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,81
much of a future.
And dammit, Cal loved her. He loved her. She clung to that like a life preserver.
Then there was the mystery of how her brother had a bloody face. Cal, she believed in. Her brother, she did not.
Dylan must have heard the click of her heels, because he raised his head and narrowed his eyes above his swollen nose. “Look what your white-trash boyfriend—”
She slapped him. Right across the face, his skin blooming white at the impact.
Her palm stung, and she shook it before wiping it on the side of her dress.
“Jenna!” her father said, a hand on Dylan’s shoulder but eyes blazing at her. “What on earth—”
“What really happened, Dylan?” She refused to look away from her brother, wanting to be witness to the guilt washing over his face.
“I told you, he—”
“See, no. I don’t think Cal had anything to do with what happened to your face.”
“He punched me before. You think he wouldn’t punch me again?”
“Tell me why there’s a smear of blood on the bathroom door.”
Her father strained his neck to look at the door behind him, but Dylan kept his eyes locked on hers. “What are you, CSI?”
“Dylan.”
“Well, he shoved me—”
“You said he punched you.”
“H-he did both.”
The fire in her belly was starting to rise up her throat. “Try that lie again without stuttering.”
Dylan’s eyes clouded. “You think I—”
“I’m not sure what to think. What’s going on in my mind is pretty disgusting. So how about you tell the truth?”
Dylan stayed mute.
Her father turned to his son with a furrowed brow. “What’s going on?”
“Tell me how your nose got bloody. Tell me, Dylan. Because I don’t think Cal did it.”
Dylan opened his mouth but then shut it again.
Her father dropped his hand from Dylan’s shoulder and stepped back, eyes wide. “Tell your sister the truth.”
“I’m going to ask one more time,” Jenna said. “Did Cal hit you?”
Dylan swallowed. She expected him to start up the accusations again, but something flickered in his eyes, a little bit of regret mixed with embarrassment. And then, he shook his head, just once, confirming what she already knew.
“Dylan!” her father said sharply.
“Did you injure yourself?” Jenna asked.
Dylan clenched his jaw. “The truth doesn’t matter. Everyone thinks he did it, and that’s what matters. Now everyone sees you’re not so perfect.”
He hissed the last word, and it made Jenna want to rip her last name up into tiny shreds between them like bathroom tissue. “You did this whole thing just to make me look bad? You’re a grown man, and all you did was make yourself look like an idiot. You want me to believe he did it so I’ll dump him, because I’d have no other choice. I couldn’t work at MacMillan and stay with the guy who punched my brother at a company party.” She took a step away from them. “Well, this time, you’re wrong. Because if that’s my choice, I quit. Find something else to focus your energy on rather than competing with me, because I’m done.”
She turned away from her gasping brother and father, past her mother’s soft protests, and walked back out into the ballroom. She held her head high, despite the whispers. Because she’d done nothing wrong. Cal had done nothing wrong. But at the moment, she didn’t care one bit about the rumors. All she cared about was getting to Cal.
After grabbing her purse, she ran outside, pausing to take off her shoes, not caring about the stones in the parking lot.
But Cal’s truck wasn’t there, and she could see the marks of his tires, showing he’d taken off like a bat out of hell.
She called his phone, but it went right to voicemail. She texted him: Call me.
Her phone stayed silent. So she called Delilah, who’d left the party early, hoping her friend could pick up her stranded butt from the country club.
Chapter Twenty-Five
CAL CALLED JILL again the next morning to tell her Asher was being discharged.
He held the hospital phone to his ear while Asher was in the bathroom. “What did you say?”
Her voice trembled. “I left my husband.”
Cal swallowed, and he stared at his boots. “Okay.”
“I guess it was the news that Asher was hurt that made me think . . . that made me realize what was happening, letting his father put him at risk. I don’t want my son hurt.”
Cal clenched his jaw and rubbed his forehead. Asher hurt. Like he had been under Cal’s watch. “Glad to hear that.”
“Don’t tell Asher yet, though, please. I